Tag Archives: Polly Hudson

Mills and Doom

The following article appeared in the Daily Mirror on 11th September 2008 and is reproduced with the kind permission of its author, the delectable Polly Hudson.

Heather Mills, unable to talk about her marriage/divorce due to a gagging (not literally, unfortunately) order is writing a novel about the marriage/divorce of a campaigning model and an ageing music legend.

She’s flogging it for a million pounds. Publication is months away but I’ve managed to get my hands on her outline for the book…

“Once upon a time there was a stunningly beautiful, inspirational, pert-breasted woman called Bracken Granulates who tirelessly worked for charities but hardly ever mentioned it. She had lost an arm in an aeroplane crash but she was still a proper canny lass. “Why aye, Bracken,” one of her many pals would often say, “You are reet brave and almost too good for this world.”

Bracken moved to London to not take part in any pornographic photo shoots and definitely never be a high-class call girl. She basically lived a pure, admirable life of truth and virtue.

One day she went to an awards ceremony, held totally in her honour to commend her for all the work she did for charity (which she couldn’t even believe anyone knew about, seeing as how she kept it secret). There she met a famous rock star called Sir Maul PcKartney.

Maul had an evil daughter called Artois who tried to turn him against Bracken, but true love conquered even her dastardly vegetarian plans. Bracken fell for Maul because he cared about the world like she did (loads). She didn’t even know that he was a little bit rich.

You can imagine how silly she felt when she found out! And so she became Lady Bracken Granulates PcKartney but only because she loved him, not because he was minted. It was absolutely no exaggeration at all to say that she was the best wife ever. But mean old (and I mean, OLD) Maul began to get jealous of how much she worked for charity, even though how he even knew she worked for charity at all was a mystery to her.

He wanted her all to himself, but Bracken was devoted to her campaigning. Maul immediately became a crack and heroin addict and was really nasty to her. But she’d promised to be with him for better or worse so she bravely stuck it out. “Why aye, Bracken,” one of her even more many pals said to her, “You are a reet saint for putting up with him.”

But soon it became impossible for poor Bracken to stay. It was all Maul’s fault. So she left, taking their daughter, Dee, who couldn’t possibly be expected to live on less than ten mill a week. “I will destroy you,” screamed Sir Maul, whose mood had turned angry, like it always did when he mainlined crystal meth.

“Your name will be mud in this town by the time I’m finished, even though you are the best, kindest, most honest and selfless woman I’ve ever met. I will make you pay for doing this to me!” “Right back atcha, Maul,” thought Bracken.

Months later, she realised that her story was such an inspirational tale of triumph over adversity that it was seriously unfair of her not to let the public in on it. And so, she decided to write a book. But, as it was fiction, the lead character couldn’t be called Bracken. “Thank goodness for my thesaurus!” she thought, as she typed in the replacement name: Heather.”

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Spygun is always here to help aspiring Geordie novelists and has managed to find something which will no doubt help the multi-talented Ms Mills as she taps away :